ears perked up. “I’ll be right there. How the fuck did she get stabbed? I thought they kept that damn princess in solitary confinement.”
At that, my eyes shot open like lightning. I pressed my ear against the door and listened for more words, but the feminine, agitated voice trailed off. I opened the door a crack and slipped out in the hallway, where I followed after the scent of the woman who was speaking. She was so easily followed. And as I headed toward the infirmary, I made a mental note of where I was and how quickly I could escape if necessary. My transportation magic did not work anymore. I guess the warden got smart.
From a young age, I’d been trained to assess the situation within seconds, using the information I had and the tools in my arsenal. I was well stocked with magic bombs and brews. The nearest exit out of this ward so I could transport was a ten mile walk from this sector. It all depended on how hurt she was. I could carry Layne out of here if necessary, but if she wasn’t going to make it, I’d have to wait until the doctor patched her up to get her out of here.
I waited with my ear against the wall, listening to the mumbling voices in the shadows. A low groan of pain snapped me to attention. Layne. It was her.
“Look at her. She likes the pain,” that familiar voice said. I pursed my lips and mentally promised to end anyone or anything that hurt her. I didn’t care who they were.
Footsteps around the corner made me press up against my hidden alcove even more. I had to force myself not to growl when the stench of my mentor hit my senses. I knew it was him long before I even saw his face. I recognized his smell. It was the same cologne of whiskey and earth that haunted me in the training bunkers as a child. Fucking Bhaltair.
He stormed into the infirmary, and I waited for a moment to hear what he was going to say. I was prepared to end his life and had the tools necessary to do it, but I wanted to make sure I caught him at his most vulnerable.
I was just about to grab a freezing spell from my pack when the floor began to shake. Shrill screams and screeches were like a punch to my skull. My ears rattled in time to my teeth as invisible gusts of wind whipped around my coat. I could barely stand. The power felt erratic and poorly controlled. There was no sense of where it began or ended. It simply was.
Save her…
That voice. It was so haunting and insistent. The Moon Goddess. I grabbed my knife and stormed into the room with heavy footing, my body fighting against the strong waves of power exploding around me. Men and women in cells on the floor could be heard screaming as I kicked down the door and barged inside.
The sight that greeted me was something that would haunt my dreams for the rest of my life.
A guard was dead on the ground, and the infirmary doctor I’d followed here was plastered against the wall. But it wasn’t the looks of terror on their faces. No, it was the sight of Bhaltair choking the love of my life that had me burning with a rage so palpable I could fucking choke on it.
I surged forward, raising my knife up to kill him. As I closed in on my nemesis, I leaped into the air with a fierce roar. The blade went into his neck with slick precision. He dropped Layne the moment the sharp point punctured his artery. I pulled out the knife with a stiff tug, and blood shot from the wound in harsh spurts.
He spun around and weakly lunged for me. His mouth was open with bloody anger, but no words poured out. He couldn’t speak. And pretty soon he would drown in his own blood. I could see the disgust in his eyes. There was no honor in the way I killed him. Back turned. Distracted. Confused. But I couldn’t be fucked to care. Bhaltair was going to die.
He dropped to the floor. “See you in Hell,” I whispered over his weakening body, and when his cold eyes fluttered closed, I sighed in relief. Finally, he was dead.
“Cypress?” a soft voice called to me. I rushed toward Layne, taking in her injuries